a walk in little whinging
by owner of the arch
Summary: Harry has always hated the town he grew up in, especially now in the summer after his fourth year, completely cut off from the wizarding world. but what would happen if, just for a moment, Harry had a friend? oneshot.


**A Walk in Little Whinging**

_taking place during the summer after Harry's fourth year_

Harry was wandering the streets of Little Whinging for what seemed to be the hundredth time since he got home that summer. After anxiously waiting for two weeks for news about Voldemort, this is all he got. Harry had been getting letters from Ron, Hermione, and Sirius that didn't help him at all, The Prophet wasn't mentioning anything, and there wasn't even a hint of anything strange in the muggle news.

Glaring down at his sneakers, he walked forward, not paying attention to where he was going. Harry found himself at the park. He walked over to the gate and tried to open it. Finding it was locked; he simply jumped over it and ignored the idea that he probably shouldn't have done it. He then trudged over to the swings and dropped onto the seat. He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't even bother to look around him. All he was looking at were the bottom of his worn-out jeans and the dried up grass at his feet.

He thought morbidly to himself that this suited how he felt. Uncared for and ignored, used then promptly thrown away.

"You don't really look like a delinquent up close."

Harry gave a start at the sudden voice. His posture was suddenly alert and he unconsciously grabbed for his wand inside his baggy T-shirt. Then he looked closer at the person who had spoken. Sitting on the swing next to him was a girl, maybe 14 or 15, gazing at him in a politely curious way. He hurriedly pulled his hand out of his shirt and bluntly replied "who are you? What do you want?"

She smiled softly and answered, "I'm Diana. It's nice to meet you too. Actually I don't really want anything. You're the one who came and sat down next to me. I was just sitting here and quietly thinking until you arrived a moment ago." Her smile seemed kind but there was some amusement dancing around her eyes.

Harry pursed his lips and answered plainly, "oh." Then seeing her expectant face, he tacked on "Sorry." Harry quickly remembered what had first caught his attention and questioned "what do you mean by I don't look like a delinquent up close?"

Diana said "well you're Harry Potter, aren't you? You're the boy that lives with the Dursleys." Seeing Harry nod, she continued "I was told that you go to some school for young criminals. I was warned to stay away from you. But you seem alright to me, aside from the clothes and such. Your face doesn't look like it belongs to someone bad."

Harry looked at her curiously. There was something special about her that he couldn't quite place. It felt like she understood him, even though they knew nothing about each other. "Have you lived here for long? I don't remember ever having seen you before."

She laughed and jovially answered "I don't actually live here at all. I'm just here for a few days visiting some relatives. I'll be leaving again tomorrow."

Harry couldn't quite explain it, but he felt a certain disappointment at the news. They had only just met – and yet there was a feeling of friendship. It was the first time Harry had ever associated something happy with Little Whinging, and he was reluctant to let it go. Then, as if reading his thoughts, Diana seemed to smile knowingly at him, and her eyes softened. "I should probably go now. We'll be leaving early tomorrow, and I still haven't packed."

She stood up with a sad smile and walked away, disappearing as quickly as she had come. After a little while of staring thoughtfully at the ground, Harry got up as well and began to slowly trudge back to number 4, Privet drive. By the time he was finally back at the Dursley's house he was half convinced that he had imagined the whole thing. Without realizing why he did it, Harry kept wandering back there. He knew that she couldn't possibly be there, but if he just sat and closed his eyes, he could imagine, for a brief moment, that he had a friend.


End file.
